Tobias was fighting the system. He searched through every circuit, every logic chain, every safety layer. Minutes passed. His brow was soaked in sweat.
Everything was perfect.
Every system reported normal. Every parameter was within optimal range.
And yet the machine had fallen out of the sky.
Ragnar laughed again, sharp and cruel. “Face it, Tobias. You won’t finish a mobile suit this year either. Same failure. Same ending.”
Alex spoke casually, as if changing the subject. “Sofina, have you heard about the fake driver case in Eden Group? You should be careful about things like that.”
“What?” Sofina turned to him, confused.
“A driver once pretended to work for Eden Group,” Alex continued calmly.
“He turned out to be a competitor’s spy. Once inside the vehicle, he installed a virus that triggered a controlled malfunction. I heard it nearly caused a fatal accident and was meant to sabotage one of Eden Group’s most important clients.”
“Alright,” Sofina nodded, still unsure why Alex brought it up.
But Tobias froze.
His eyes snapped to a different subsystem. The driver authorization software.
He dug in fast.
And there it was.
Unauthorized code. Hidden commands. A false failure protocol uploaded through driver access—designed to make the mobile suit pretend to malfunction.
“Damn it!” Tobias hissed.
The driver had sabotaged the Phantom from the inside.
His hands moved with precision now. No hesitation.
He revoked the driver’s authority instantly, wiped the infected layer, and activated full AI control. He rerouted command to the autonomous combat core and issued a single directive:
Finish the lap.
On the stadium screen, the Phantom shuddered.
Then its systems roared back to life.
Thrusters ignited. Stabilizers locked in. The mobile suit surged upward and shot forward, accelerating hard—faster than before, faster than anyone expected.
It was already too late.
The Phantom had lost too much time. There was no catching the other mobile suits. Everyone understood what that meant—last place.
“Ragnar,” Tobias turned slowly, “you paid someone to sit inside my machine and stab it from the inside.”
Ragnar chuckled, unimpressed. “Careful, boy. That’s a serious accusation coming from someone whose useless mobile suit just fell out of the sky.”
“My suit didn’t fall,” Tobias said quietly. “It was betrayed.”
Ragnar shrugged. “That’s business.”
His smile twisted. “Betrayed or not, you lost because you can’t manage your own people. Blame your stupidity. Blame your weakness. You’re a loser with no money and blind loyalty. Too many holes. Too easy to exploit.”
Tobias understood the truth of it. In war, every weakness would be exposed, and every opening would be exploited. Life in Prussia was about winning by any means necessary. Betrayal only happened to those foolish enough to leave themselves vulnerable.
Still, even with the Phantom finishing last, it wasn’t a complete loss. For the first time in years, Bluthelm had completed a full lap without collapsing.
That alone felt like survival.
After nearly an hour of competition, the first stage of the three-stage tournament came to an end.
Then Belinda stood up.
“Tobias,” she said sharply, “you’re part of the reunion staff. You’ll handle the auction this time with me. Let’s open the gifts one by one, estimate their value, and if anyone wants them, we start the bidding.”
She reached for the first box.
“Let’s start with this one.”
Belinda opened it quickly. Inside lay an old scroll. Her face twisted in disappointment.
“What is this?” she scoffed. “Who brings a piece of paper this old?”


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