Fated to Die to the Player, I'll Live Freely with My SSS-Class Ship! Chapter 70: Definitely Not as Planned

After Arthur passed the "note" to the lizardman soldier, the guard quickly paced down the hallways, heading toward a certain room.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the one where Eva and Cassandra stayed, as their quarters were in a separate building.

Instead, the lizardman’s destination was a place where soone of high standing resided.

Upon arriving at his intended stop, the lizardman bowed to his fellow guards before stating his business.

"The Young Master wants to pass a note to his comrades. I’m here to show it to the President first for confirmation."

His tone was business as usual—a sign that this wasn’t his first ti handling such matters.

As proof, the two stationed guards quickly stepped aside, allowing him entry into the room. It wasn’t a personal suite, but rather, Anderson Phi Astoria’s office.

Inside, the Astoria Conglorate’s President sat behind a transparent desk, his sharp green eyes scanning multiple floating docunts at once.

Upon hearing the door open, he briefly glanced up at the visitor before returning his focus to his work.

"What’s the problem, Kenny? Did my foolish son try to run away or sothing?"

The casual tone in which he spoke might have made so lower their guard—but not when dealing with President Astoria.

Those familiar with him knew: that the friendlier his tone, the more dangerous he was.

Kenny, the lizardman guard, imdiately straightened his back and offered a respectful salute before delivering his report.

"N-No, sir! Young Master Gerard asked to pass this note to his comrade, Ms. Eva. I’m here to let you check the note first, just in case..."

"A note?"

Anderson tilted his head slightly before extending a hand.

"Let see."

As soon as he received the paper, he wasted no ti reading its contents. For a few monts, silence filled the office.

Then, a thin smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"That kid..." he muttered under his breath before looking up.

"Looks like he wants to join the Grand Prix scheduled two days from now."

"But we already have two teams participating in the Grand Prix, sir. Is that alright?"

At the guard’s concern, Anderson’s sharp gaze darkened.

"That’s sothing for to decide, not you."

The lizardman stiffened, his body trembling slightly under the weight of the President’s silent pressure.

"S-Sorry for overstepping my bounds, sir!" he quickly saluted.

Thankfully, the tense atmosphere was short-lived as Anderson let out a tired sigh before waving his hand dismissively.

"Anyway, go ahead and register them, but don’t put them under the Astoria Conglorate’s flag like the other two teams."

"Understood. They’ll be registering under Ms. Eva Beastol’s Frigate, correct?"

"That’s a given."

"As you command, President!"

Just as the lizardman turned to leave, Anderson raised a hand.

"Ah, wait. Scratch that."

Kenny imdiately halted in place, waiting for further instruction.

"For the participant roles, assign Ms. Casey as the pilot, Ms. Eva as the navigator, and Ger—I an—Arthur as the chanic."

The lizardman’s eye twitched.

According to official rules, Grand Prix teams required at least three mbers—a pilot, a navigator, and a chanic.

Yet, rather than assigning the roles logically, Anderson had seemingly switched them around arbitrarily.

At first glance, it appeared to be a harmless prank—but it was a test of sorts for his so-called "son."

Ironically, due to a lack of accurate information, he had inadvertently assigned them to roles they were well-suited for... except Cassandra.

She had zero piloting experience.

Still, Kenny dared not question the President’s reasoning a second ti.

"Yes, sir."

With a brief nod, the lizardman quickly exited the room, intent on carrying out his orders.

The mont he disappeared beyond the door, Anderson chuckled softly.

"Looks like this year’s Grand Prix… will be quite entertaining."

---

Finally, my 50-hour probation ended.

The mont it did, I exited my room, sprinted down the hallways, and headed straight to the building next door—where Eva and Cassandra were staying, apparently.

As soon as I arrived at the lobby—wide enough to fit the entire Range Falcon—I imdiately spotted two familiar figures.

One was a red-haired beauty clad in a velvet-red cocktail dress. Her hair was styled into a side-tail with its ends curled, giving off a subtle "rich girl" aura.

The other was a blonde beauty dressed in a pale blue infinity dress, her back exposed quite generously. Her hair was tied into a whorl—a single bun atop her head—making her appear noticeably different from usual.

"Eva, Cas—ey!"

I caught myself just in ti, almost calling Cassandra by na in public.

Hearing my voice, the two girls turned around, quickly spotting . With graceful strides, they approached—their expressions neutral.

*WHOOSH!*

Suddenly, Eva grabbed by the collar, nearly making stumble forward. Her lips curled into a scowl.

"Bastard... What the hell are you planning, registering us in the Grand Prix without our permission?"

"Huh?"

I was genuinely confused, turning to Cassandra for help. As if figuring out my silent plea, she stepped forward to explain.

"Yesterday, we received confirmation that our registration for the Aegis Grand Prix was approved... but neither Eva nor I handled the registration process. Naturally, she assud it was you."

"No, I didn’t do it either!" I defended myself imdiately.

"I was cut off from the intranet until just a few minutes ago! Rather, I asked you to handle it in my note, right? What are you even talking about?"

"What note?" Eva’s frown deepened, her tone cold and dangerous.

"Eh? You didn’t receive it...?"

Before the situation could spiral further, a sharp clap echoed, drawing our attention. We turned toward the source of the sound—a familiar figure standing at the entrance.

"Oh, President Astoria. Apologies for our unruly behavior."

Eva imdiately released my collar, curtsying like a noble lady—completely unlike her usual attitude. But even Cassandra followed suit, bowing with the sa graceful formality.

"It’s fine, it’s fine. No need to be so formal."

President Anderson Phi Astoria waved his hand dismissively, a faint smile on his lips. "Rather, you were arguing about your registration, weren’t you?"

"Y-Yes..." I nodded, but a nagging suspicion ford in my mind.

And sure enough, his next words confird my worst fear.

"Actually, I intercepted my son’s note and took it upon myself to register you. Perhaps I overstepped my bounds?"

"P-Perish the thought!" Cassandra responded imdiately. "It’s an honor to race under the Astoria na!"

"Ah, but I didn’t register you under the Astoria Conglorate brand."

"What?"

"You’ll be participating as an independent team. So, good luck!"

With a flick of his finger, my personal terminal beeped.

Curious, I checked the ssage—

"What the fuck?!"

—and it didn’t take long to understand why Eva was furious.

In my original note, I had planned for myself to be the pilot, Cassandra the navigator, and Eva as the chanic.

With piloting, the rest of the roles would be completely passive, making it the optimal setup. However, the official registration confirmation showed sothing completely different.

Cassandra was listed as the pilot!

I turned to the person in question, and she quickly blushed from embarrassnt under my intense gaze.

I turned back to Gerard’s father, frowning.

"Father, this is your doing, isn’t it?"

It wasn’t even a question anymore—there was no one else who would pull this kind of stunt.

"Heh."

Anderson scoffed lightly, unfazed by my judging glare.

"You’re an Astoria, right? Then prove it to . Win the Grand Prix with that girl as your pilot."

This was definitely so kind of test. But beyond that, I had a gut feeling that there was sothing else at play.

Still, backing down was not an option.

"Of course, we will!" I declared, full of confidence. "But if we win, I want you to hand over the Warp Nexus Fragnt in your possession!"

"Sure, sure."

Then, with a mischievous smirk, he added:

"And if you lose..."

I narrowed my eyes, anticipating the words he would say next.

"You will be forced to remain in the Astoraxia Galaxy for the next 10 years—"

"That’s not even a threat—" I was about to cut him off, but then he continued.

"—and disband your rcenary Group."

A chill ran down my spine.

"We need stakes worthy of the Warp Nexus Fragnt, don’t we?" He added, his gaze narrowed into thin strips—as if evaluating as a person, and as an "heir."

I clenched my fists.

If I were trapped here for 10 years, countless bad-end scenarios would unfold unchecked, pushing the universe toward destruction.

And disbanding the Knights of Calot?

That ant abandoning Eva’s mother and severing my support for Cassandra’s present situation. This wasn’t just a race anymore—the entire universe’s fate lies on our victory or loss!

"...So I need to go all-in, huh?" I laughed bitterly.

"No," Anderson corrected, shaking his head.

"What I an is, you should return to your duty as the Astoria Conglorate’s successor... and stop playing around with won."

"You—!"

Eva bristled, her blood boiling at the way he casually disregarded her, treating her like so random bitch I keep for "that" kind of purpose.

But before she could lash out, I raised a hand, silently stopping her.

Though clearly frustrated, she crossed her arms, taking a step back.

"Alright. I accept." I grinned. "Not like this changes anything. I was planning to win anyway."

"Heh, big words… As expected from my son."

To ensure neither of us could back out, we signed a contract. And with the bets finalized, it was ti to focus on our strategy.

But before that…

"First things first," I turned to Cassandra, cracking my knuckles. "I’m going to teach you how to pilot a ship!"

With barely 1 galactic day left before the race began, we had no ti to waste.