What Do You Mean I'm The Captain Of A Yandere Mercenary Company? - Chapter 380: Clearing The Hangar

The pessimistic and negative daughter of a concubine living in the ancient times thought – since life is so difficult, why should one invest serious effort in struggling to live?

The life of an ancient noble woman is often determined and controlled by her family. Moreover, one’s actions often implicate one’s entire family – thus, it is fairly common to see an unexpected calamity result in suffering borne by one’s whole family. Managing to live a good and successful life while retaining one’s dignity is simply too difficult to achieve.

Ah, living in the ancient times is simply too dangerous – we should all just sleep till we die.

The Strongest Magic meets the Mightiest Mecha.

I have stolen Golden Mechas from the deepest vaults of the most tightly guarded fortresses in the world.

I have personally destroyed more armies than the top three superpowers have in the span of the Absolute War - combined.

I burned down the terrorist megacity of Habon.

I was expelled from the Union of Heroes at a younger age than people are allowed in.

I have talked to Ancient Gods, loved women, and devoured mechas that would make superpowers cringe in fear.

I have faced demons head on in moonless nights others fear to speak of during the day.

I am deified in a thousand cultures, and labelled as the devil incarnate in the rest.

I am the Mecha Emperor.

You may have heard of me.

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Excerpt from Chapter 1

This is where it all began.

A junkyard.

Oh no, this isn't your clean, mechas-only junkyard that was the 'starting point' of many mecha geniuses out there.

I have seen and heard my share of rags-to-riches stories, and many of them claimed that they had started from 'junkyards' and slowly grew to be where they were right now.

From Zero to Hero, they declared.

You can do it too, they said.

As long as you work hard, everything is possible, they claimed.

I call bullshit.

Life doesn't work like that.

SSS Beast Apostle System and Survival Racing in Apocalypse.

When the aliens invaded earth, they didn’t come for its resources as many doomsayers had proclaimed throughout the years.

Instead, they came for fun.

They came, flattened earth’s biggest cities and turned the world into a planet-sized stadium for their civilization.

The sport?

Survival Racing.

Ferocious alien beasts were unleashed upon the ruins of the world along with thousands of alien death-row fugitives who were only told one thing: Kill the humans, survive the year and regain your freedom.

Elliot was a survivor. He died right before he entered the final 15 days of the Games.

But as his consciousness began to slip away, a metallic voice rang out within his soul.

Mission failed.

Activating sponsor’s Boon: Reverse Time Walk.

Activating sponsor's Boon: Beast System.

Welcome to the Beast System. My name is Hawk, your AI.

EXCERPT from Chapter 1:

Elliot screamed in absolute exhilaration as he smashed his foot on the brakes, just enough to fully utilize the power of his ceramic brakes but not so much that his tires locked up. He went from two hundred miles an hour to forty miles an hour in a heartbeat.

He entered the sharp corner from the outside at the maximum entry speed and skillfully brought his car to the threshold of his tire’s grip.

SCREEE!!

He took the corner at record speed like a professional racer and then floored the pedal to the metal once more!

In times of war…What is a Battle Mecha engineer expected to do? Are they expected to do research and realize their imagination?How about a Battle Mecha pilot? Are they expected to enter battle with their mechas as they display their exquisite control through bizarre and bewildering techniques?What about a member of the special scouts? Are they expected to infiltrate deep into the enemy lines as they use stellar unarmed fighting skills to suppress the enemy with a single move? Or are they expected to make use of disguises and stealth techniques to take out the enemy?And what about a military officer? Are they expected to analyze the outcome of a battle? Or are they expected to create brilliant strategies to triumph over the enemy through a miraculous move?For someone who excels in human psychology, deceit, assassination, and disguise, what happens when that person is merged with all those professions?This is the story of a cowardly, wretched, and despicable fatty.