Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 72: Manipulating the Game

Chapter 72: Manipulating the Game

For the contestants, this was just another competition, but for the businessmen behind it, it was all about making a profit.

Organizing a massive competition like this across the entire Alliance wasn’t something a single sponsor could pull off.

There were definitely a few heavy hitters bankrolling this event, and they’d already picked their favorites. They even had a pretty good idea of who’d walk away with the championship.

Anyone who fell for their smooth talk and signed on the dotted line would just end up as a pawn in their game.

"But Miss Shedd, you must realize, once you enter the competition, we have the right to broadcast it," the planning manager insisted, his tone hardening as he tried to assert control.

"Broadcast all you want, but whether or not we cooperate is entirely up to us," Lyra shot back, not missing a beat. She stood her ground without a moment’s hesitation. "Our match is about to start, so goodbye."

With that, she swiftly closed the current page and walked out of the meeting room.

The manager stood there, stunned, as she left.

Frustration washed over him as he glanced at Thierry, who responded with nothing more than a dismissive snort.

He tried to stop Zinnia, but she just cheerfully waved him off and darted out the door.

Back in reality, the manager yanked off his helmet and slammed it onto the table in frustration. "Ungrateful brats!"

Soon after, his secretary entered the room, carrying some documents. "We’ve identified the company backing ’Whatever’."

The middle-aged man snatched the documents and quickly flipped through them, a cold smile spreading across his face. "So that’s why they’re so stubborn. They’re trying to take the whole pie for themselves, huh? Let’s see if they can handle that."

Meanwhile, Lyra, Thierry, and Zinnia made their way back to the competition arena. Zinnia was still puzzled. "Why didn’t we just agree?"

Since it affected all three of them, Lyra decided to lay it out clearly. "If we had agreed, we would’ve kissed our chances of winning goodbye."

"What? Why?" Zinnia asked, confused.

Thierry sighed, realizing Zinnia was still in the dark. "Let me break it down for you."

Zinnia’s eyes were on him, eager to understand.

"Over the past decade, EPMA has snagged the championship eight times. Sure, maybe they’re good, but it’s more likely that they were the chosen ones from the start."

"This time, EPMA’s Rose team has three S-Class players, and they’re always front and center on the main page. It’s a good bet that they’ve been picked to win. The organizers are pulling the strings behind the scenes. If we signed that contract, we’d just be there to make EPMA look better. Get it now?"

That’s why Lyra had asked if they were being promoted as the champion team. When the answer was no, she immediately turned them down.

That so-called "upset" the guy mentioned? It happened the year Cohen was competing. No one would dare mess with the Admiral’s son. The truth was, the organizers were secretly backing Cohen’s team that year, and sure enough, they ended up winning big.

Zinnia’s face fell as reality set in. "Damn, and here I thought the organizers actually liked us. Turns out they’re just scared we might win and want to keep us under control!"

She had nailed it with her complaint, perfectly summing up the organizers’ real intentions.

"Then... won’t they come after us?" Zinnia asked, her worry showing.

Lyra and Thierry exchanged surprised looks. Maybe she wasn’t as clueless as they’d thought.

They hadn’t exactly won over the organizers, so getting targeted was definitely on the table. And it was likely to happen sooner rather than later.

When Lyra caught sight of their next opponents, she could already sense the organizers’ arrogance at play.

Her opponent was a mecha prodigy, famous for his skills from a young age. He’d been training in mecha combat since he was a kid, but due to a close relative’s criminal past, he was barred from joining the military. This year was his last shot at the competition, and the organizers were pushing him hard, spotlighting him as their golden boy, eager to draw in the crowds.

Normally, a player like him would be saved for the final rounds, carefully positioned to face the pre-selected champion. But this time, they threw him in early, clearly intending for him to take Lyra out.

No matter how things played out, the organizers were poised to benefit. If the mecha prodigy won, his fame would skyrocket. If he lost, well, his image might take a hit, but it would stir up even more drama.

For Lyra, though, the stakes were high whether she won or lost.

To the audience, this looked like a random match-up, but to those in the know, it was a calculated move by the investors.

Morrison, noticing the viewer count climbing at an alarming rate, felt a twinge of anxiety despite Lyra’s heads-up. He quickly connected to the streamer through his headset. "Don’t let the trolls get to you."

The live chat was already buzzing with comments like, "The mecha prodigy’s toast, Lyra’s unbeatable!" and "If he loses, he should just quit piloting mechas for good!" These were obvious jabs meant to rile up the mecha prodigy’s fans, and it worked like a charm.

"What’s with the hate? Cheer for your girl, but don’t trash our guy!"

"Lyra’s fans are the worst!"

"Everyone, chill out, it’s just trolling," the streamer tried to calm things down, telling the mods to kick out the troublemakers to keep up appearances. "Winning and losing is part of the game; let’s focus on skill and leave the personal stuff out."

But the damage was done. The mecha prodigy’s fans were fuming. To them, Lyra was just some newbie riding on their idol’s fame.

Meanwhile, their idol was feeling even more frustrated. ’Why am I up against a freshman? Sure, she has some buzz, but everyone knows it was just clever marketing.’

He had been looking forward to facing off against EPMA players—THAT would’ve been the real showdown with maximum exposure.

As he selected his skills, he muttered under his breath, "Fine. As long as I win, nothing else matters."

Before the match notification, he had gone over Lyra’s past performances. Her matches usually lasted over two minutes, showing she had solid skills, typical of a military academy student, but nothing top-tier.

This gave him a quiet confidence.

As soon as the countdown ended, they both launched into action.

The mecha prodigy had studied her fighting style. It was basic and old-school—greatsword, shield, and a bit of shooting.

Lyra never used the higher-damage weapons like lasers or railguns. Those had long cooldowns and needed precise timing, but if they hit, they could end the match in an instant.

The guy piloted a bipedal lizard mecha, light and fast, with an added tail as part of its design—a feature that gave him extra offensive capability without counting as an additional weapon.

This effectively gave him one more tool in his arsenal.

The lizard mecha roared to life, darting across the arena with nimble, quick steps.

Suddenly, it leaped into the air, its large tail swinging in a powerful arc. Lyra brought up her shield to block.

But the moment her shield went up, her view was obstructed. In that split second, she lost sight of her opponent.

As Lyra scanned the battlefield, she didn’t waste a second. Without pausing, she drew her sword and swung it in a swift 180-degree arc behind her.

The sharp clang that followed confirmed her hunch—she’d made contact.

Without pausing, she fired a shot from her mecha’s hand, the muzzle glowing as the blast tore through the air.

The mecha prodigy, seeing the open muzzle and realizing the danger, reacted instantly. He commanded his lizard mecha to curl its limbs inward, shielding the cockpit just in time.

The maneuver saved him from elimination, but the force of the impact sent him flying across the arena.

As he spiraled through the air, dizziness set in, but he fought it off, desperately trying to regain control of his mecha and avoid Lyra’s inevitable follow-up. Inside, anger bubbled up.

’This woman’s way stronger than her data suggested!’

It hit him—it was all the organizers’ fault. They’d underestimated Lyra, and now he was paying the price.

But he wasn’t just any competitor. He’d been famous since he was a kid and had years of experience backing him up.

Even in midair, he kept his cool, quickly stabilizing his mecha. As soon as he got his bearings, he unleashed a shot from his railgun.

’This one’s got her!’

It seemed impossible for Lyra’s humanoid mecha, now charging at full speed, to dodge the blast.

Thirty seconds left on the clock.