Fated to Die to the Player, I'll Live Freely with My SSS-Class Ship! Chapter 3: Facing Reality

After the battle was over, I leaned back in the captain's seat, trying to relax my strained mind and body. The adrenaline from the fight still coursed through , but exhaustion was starting to creep in.

"Percy, scan the pirate wreckage and salvage anything with resale value," I muttered, my voice weak.

Letting two of the pirates escape stung more than I cared to admit. Yet, sothing else gnawed at , overshadowing my frustration.

"This... isn't a dream, is it?" I whispered.

During the battle, everything had felt too real—far beyond what I'd experienced in the ga. The ship's systems, the control stick's feedback, even the sheer force of the maneuvers—it was all different.

One glaring detail stood out: the inertia canceller. In Trinity Star Online, it was designed to dampen around 90-99% of the ship's inertia, ensuring safety for players. But the G-forces I experienced during the fight were well past the ga's limits.

"No way they'd push realism this far," I muttered. "They'd be swamped with lawsuits if players were subjected to this kind of torture every dogfight they go through."

TSO's systems capped G-force feedback at 3G, enough to make combat thrilling but still safe—like an amusent park ride. However, the sharp turn I pulled during that last maneuver had hit at least 6G, if not more. My head had felt like it would snap off, and my vision nearly blacked out. Without the spacesuit—which thankfully doubled as a G-suit—I would've lost consciousness on the spot!

Shaking off the mory, I reached out and turned off the monitor in front of the captain's chair. The glossy black screen reflected my image back at : short, mid-fade silver hair, a sharp nose bridge, thin lips, and piercing ash-gray eyes. A face brimming with youth and arrogance.

"This bastard," I muttered, my lips curling in frustration. "I have to live as this guy now? That's ssed up."

The reflection belonged to Gerard Astoria—the quintessential throwaway villain. He wasn't even a part of Trinity Star Online's main story, just a minor character fated to die to the player before the ga's real plot began. A character that existed solely in flashbacks.

And now I was in his shoes. Or rather, his body.

A wave of unease washed over . Was this transmigration? Had so all-powerful being ripped my soul from my body and shoved it into Gerard's? Or was this the result of so cosmic glitch—a ripple in ti and space causality? None of it made sense.

But then another thought hit , stopping my spiral of panic. 'Wait. The details on the star map were different from the in-ga version. There's a chance that... this isn't TSO's universe at all!'

That realization brought a glimr of hope. Sure, the star placents were eerily similar, but deviations existed. If this wasn't TSO's exact universe, it could an Gerard's fate wasn't set in stone. Maybe this was a parallel world, a twist on the original setting.

"And to prove it," I said aloud, sitting up straighter, "I need to check things out for myself."

Just as Percy finished beaming in the loot from the pirate wreckage, I activated the Jump Drives. The ship humd with power, the Falcon's thrusters roaring to life. Setting the coordinates, I charted a course toward my next destination, the sa as before: the Narlia Comrcial Hub in the Calut Star System!

The stars blurred into brilliant streaks as the ship accelerated into the void.

---

"...Fuck this shit," I muttered, slumping back into the captain's chair. "So much for wishful thinking."

The reason for my frustration? Let's just say my luck is about as rotten as a piece of cheap at left out on a table for a week.

The Jump was successful, at least initially. But due to the asteroid belt—or more accurately, the asteroid sphere—enclosing the Calut Star System, the ship's systems had forcefully halted the jump mid-route. This wasn't just so thin field of debris, either; the sphere spanned a staggering 1 Astronomical Unit (AU) in thickness. Now, I had no choice but to manually weave through a hellscape of randomly scattered asteroids before continuing the jump to my destination.

Not ideal, but not unexpected. This chanic was identical to how Trinity Star Online handled similar scenarios. I wasn't worried about navigating—it was tedious but manageable. The problem began shortly after I entered the asteroid field.

My radar picked up a signal. A ship.

At first, I thought it was just so random vessel crossing the belt like . If that had been the case, I might've even hailed them for company or intel. But as the ship's image data appeared, my heart skipped a beat. Its detail was all too familiar.

A small frigate, no more than ten ters long. Its design mirrored a traditional aircraft, complete with "wings" and a "tail"—a relic of old-school spaceship aesthetics. It was the Hunter model, a standard early-ga frigate that anyone could acquire.

But it wasn't the ship's design that caught my attention. It was the emblem spray-painted on its topside.

Zooming in, I scrutinized the image: a circle inscribed within a triangle, its three corners pointing to the wings and the helm. Simple, almost unassuming, yet unmistakable.

"That's... the player's ship!" I whispered, my throat tightening.

My heartbeat quickened as mories of the ga flooded back. In Trinity Star Online, Chapter 1's Secret Side Story featured this exact encounter. The player would cross paths with Gerard in a random asteroid field. True to his arrogant nature, Gerard would provoke the player and even attack first, leading to a life-or-death battle.

Over 99% of players failed this side story on their first attempt. The disparity in size and specs between the Falcon and the Hunter made it nearly impossible to overco without absurd skill—or a specific ga-breaking item. I winced, recalling the infamous micro-blackhole warhead, a reward from another secret side story. Before it was patched, players had used it to cheese Gerard's fight into oblivion.

'If this player has the micro-blackhole warhead, I'm screwed.'

The only advantage I had was the Range Falcon's nasake radar, which boasted an impressive 0.5 AU detection range—ten tis that of a standard frigate. This ant I had spotted the player long before they could detect . For now, at least, I was safe.

But my relief was short-lived as my thoughts spiraled into dangerous territory.

"What happens to the plot if I don't die?" I frowned, my mind racing.

Now that I'd confird this universe mirrored Trinity Star Online thanks to the player's presence, the implications hit like a freight train. Gerard's death wasn't just a minor event; it was a crucial trigger for the main storyline. His death set off a chain reaction that escalated into the conflict between the Astoria Conglorate and the player—a central pillar of the narrative.

Without Gerard's death, Chapter 3 would never happen. Worse, Chapter 9—the linchpin for unlocking the good ending—would be completely invalidated.

"In short, if I survive, the universe is on track for the bad ending," I muttered, a chill running down my spine.

It was absurd. The fate of the entire universe hinged on Gerard Astoria, a disposable villain dying on cue. Who would've thought?

Of course, I couldn't just throw myself in front of the player to preserve the story. I was too young, too handso, and frankly too attached to breathing to die like so scripted NPC.

I leaned forward, my thoughts shifting gears. 'What if Gerard doesn't have to die? What if I could rewrite the narrative?'

"Wait..." I muttered, my lips curling into a dangerous smile. "I know the major plots like the back of my hand. Every twist, every secret event. Couldn't I assist the player from behind the scenes, making sure we avoid the bad ending altogether?"

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. With my knowledge, we could bypass the chaos of Chapter 3 entirely. Even Chapter 9's grueling requirents could be sidestepped with the right preparation.

"This... this could work!" I said, excitent bubbling in my chest. "All I need to do is establish an amicable relationship with the player!"

Suddenly, the thought of facing the protagonist didn't feel so daunting. If I played my cards right, Gerard Astoria wouldn't just survive—he'd thrive.

Grinning to myself, I adjusted the Range Falcon's bearing, setting a course directly toward the player's ship. My plan was simple, almost laughably so. Step one: make a good first impression. Step two: don't die!