Fated to Die to the Player, I'll Live Freely with My SSS-Class Ship!

Chapter 49: Stealth and Payback!

About five minutes later, I returned to the main console, my fingers dancing over the controls with a feverish urgency. Within moments, a new yellow dot flickered onto the Star Map—marking Prince Leobert’s current position.

I grinned. No way in hell would I stay on the receiving end in this fucking game.

The moment these "unregistered guests" stepped aboard the Range Falcon, the ship’s hidden defense system silently sprung into action. Nano-sized tracking bots, no larger than specks of dust, dispersed into the air, clinging onto the metallic clasps and armor plates of their uniforms. The prince’s men were practically walking beacons now, whether they knew it or not.

Detection? Not a chance. These weren’t just ordinary spy drones—they were OB Nexus 1000 Stealth Nanobots, an item from the game that was so overpowered, so blatantly broken, that players often debated whether it was a feature or a bug.

During large-scale battles, skilled players would attach these bots to enemy commanders, tracking them in the chaos of war. A single strike team could then slip through the battlefield and end the opposition’s leadership in one clean assassination.

And right now, I have a prime target marked.

I could end this here. If I wanted, I could use this intel to kill Prince Leobert, remove this cursed collar, and be done with it. But no. Not yet. Just like the "Crazy Princess," he was another key piece in this twisted game of fate—a necessary bastard for navigating the upcoming bad-end events.

"They’ve already set off," I murmured, watching his signal drift farther and farther from the Zuman Space Hub.

Of course, they weren’t careless enough to leave me completely unchecked. One of the prince’s royal guards had remained behind, his signal motionless—a watchdog keeping tabs on my every move.

"But that prince made a mistake—he’s underestimating me."

I swiped my personal terminal, selecting one of the OB Nexus bots attached to the lingering guard. With a single tap, I activated the custom Trojan Virus I had planted within the swarm.

From his perspective, nothing had changed. His visor wouldn’t flicker, and his sensors wouldn’t raise any alarms. But now? Now there was no way he could detect me.

I stepped away from the console, a sly grin tugging at my lips. Time to put it to the test.

Leaving the Falcon, I strode confidently toward the armored sentry, planting myself right in front of him with my hands at my waist.

No reaction.

I waved a hand in front of his visor. Nothing.

"Yep," I nodded to myself, thoroughly satisfied. "With this, he can no longer see or hear me and the girls, or detect changes on the ship!"

Temptation stirred within me. This was the same bastard who had punched and kicked me before. Playing a harmless prank wouldn’t be out of the question… but no. I held back. I could have fun after we made our escape.

Leaving the oblivious guard behind, I made my way back toward the bustling business district of the hub.

Finding the girls in this chaotic mess would be like

"You think I wouldn’t figure out how this thing works?" I muttered, shaking my head. "I’m someone who knows all items in TSO by heart!"

Not wasting time, I reset the collar’s security settings—to my own biometric data. Then, with a satisfied smirk, I clasped it around his neck instead.

Still… that wasn’t quite enough.

I nudged his unconscious form with my foot, flipping him onto his back. Then, without hesitation—

Five punches to the face. Ten to the chest. And one direct kick to the groin.

"Phew…" I exhaled, wiping my brow while admiring the bloody scene before me. "That works wonders!"

Feeling considerably better, I gathered up the discarded blue armor and hauled it back to the Range Falcon’s cargo bay. Once securely stowed, I sealed the ship completely.

Turning my attention to the security cameras, I watched as a familiar figure appeared—Neardin, head of Zuman Space Hub security. He sighed in irritation before grabbing the unconscious man by the arm and dragging him off.

After all, the message I sent had been simple: a half-naked drunkard was passed out in front of our dock. No need for unnecessary details.

As for what would happen to him when Prince Leobert returned? Not my problem.

Ten minutes passed. Eva and Cassandra finally arrived at the bridge, now dressed in matching spacesuits—the same spare ones Eva had kept onboard.

They strapped themselves in their seats without a word, the weight of urgency still pressing down on us. I turned to face them.

"Alright," I said with a grin. "Let’s wrap up these small quests and get the hell out of here!"