The battleship upgrade cores were arguably even more shocking than shipbuilding blueprints—until his own base was strong enough, Hikaru had no intention of leaking even a scrap of news about them.
Development blueprints, construction blueprints, and upgrade cores—these things weren't of much use to Hikaru himself. All of his original base's shipgirls who could be upgraded already had been, and he had no shortage of ships or equipment. But once his new base was established, these exclusive "specialties" would be his means to gather wealth and open doors.
"Commander, abyssal patrol unit spotted 50 nautical miles ahead," said Lexington, snapping Hikaru out of his thoughts.
Nothing was visible to the naked eye on the dark sea, but Lexington had picked up the enemy via her reconnaissance aircraft.
"What's the situation?"
As the carrier's eyes and ears, her aircraft instantly returned data.
"Three light cruisers, five destroyers. It'll be a bit of a challenge for Cali, but it's manageable."
"Good first blood. Let her know to get ready."
California summoned her rigging, four guns fanning out behind her like a black X, the muzzles angled toward the horizon.
Lexington briefed her on the targets: "Enemy fleet at 20 nautical miles. Five abyssal A-class Destroyer Type I, three abyssal E-class Light Cruisers—two Type I, one Type II."
California wracked her brain to recall their stats.
Type I destroyers were trash—1-star, level 1, with 5 firepower, 5 armor, 20 HP, possibly equipped with +1 firepower single-barrel pea-shooters. One salvo would sink them. Their only threat was their 35-knot speed.
E-class Type I light cruisers were stronger—1-star, level 2, about 14 firepower, 15 armor, 33 HP. Slightly better gear, and their scout planes could be annoying if they landed a few hits.
As for Type II… crap. That was a 3-star, level 16 template. Definitely superior in every way, but she couldn't remember the exact stats.
She turned to look at Hikaru, hesitant to ask for help.
California was only level 5—mostly because she hadn't had any training partners. Without drills alongside higher-level shipgirls, it was hard to level up on raw combat alone.
She had thought about asking Fletcher or Lexington, but her pride got in the way.
So far, she'd only sparred a few times with Elizabeth —who wasn't a good teacher. That girl just bashed her around with her shield and told her to figure it out herself.
How frustrating. I look cool and badass, but I'm just a newbie!
Hikaru, arms around Lexington and whispering sweet nothings, noticed California's glance and looked puzzled.
"Why're you looking at me, Cali? You're about to be in range."
She turned away, grumbling inwardly. Useless commander, not even offering help when I'm too proud to ask! Forget it—I won't ask about the Type II's stats. What's the worst that could happen? Even if I get hurt, it's your resources that take the hit.
The enemy patrol fleet had been heading toward them, drawn by the hostile intent radiating from the Black Sea, while California was guided by Lexington's real-time directions. Within 40-50 minutes, they'd closed to within 10 nautical miles.
That's about 18.5 km. Hikaru couldn't spot the abyssal shipgirls with his eyes, but California's rigging was constantly adjusting for optimal targeting.
Technically, she could've fired earlier—but she waited until closer range. At 20 km, even with top-tier targeting, it was nearly impossible to hit agile, man-sized targets on the choppy sea.
Hikaru approved. Most shipgirl battles happened at close to mid-range anyway.
With shells averaging 1,000 m/s, a shot at 20 km would take 20 seconds to land. Against fast, dodging targets, hits were unlikely.
That's why close-range battleships like Elizabeth existed.
California was now walking the same path as every battleship girl before her: get in close and blow them up.
When Hikaru could just barely make out the enemy figures, California fired the opening salvo.
All eleven barrels roared, the orange fire from the four-barreled French gun most impressive. Though its caliber was smaller than her body, the shockwave was deafening.
Lexington immediately pulled Hikaru back 100 meters. "Good thing these aren't real shell-launching guns. If they were, even the blast would blow us away."
California's guns were all energy-based and had little recoil. If she used a real shell-based rigging, it could tear open the sea.
Historically, Yamato-class battleships had 460mm triple turrets weighing over 2,000 tons. Their shells alone exceeded one ton.
When Musashi fired incendiary shells against U.S. planes, the muzzle blast swept the deck and killed over 50 crew. Shipgirl weapons were even stronger.
California's shots sent towering waves skyward.
Unlike traditional naval tactics with crossing the T, shipgirl gunfights had none of that. Their precision made them more like sniper duels—with each shell capable of flattening a skyscraper.
Hikaru couldn't see the results yet, but return fire from the enemy had already started. Each shot blasted the sea open, hiding California from view.
Meanwhile, Glowworm was gleefully darting between geysers of water like it was a game.
Lexington created a transparent shield in front of them, blocking the splashes.
"This is brutal," Hikaru murmured.
"Not really. These barrages are usually ineffective—too scattered."
"How powerful would our strongest battleship's shot be?"
Lexington tilted her head. "If they were as wasteful as Cali? Comparable to the nukes from the old world. Over 100 megatons of TNT, easy."
In the old world, the U.S. Army made 280mm nuclear cannons. The shells had 15 kiloton yields—similar to Hiroshima's bomb. The USSR's Tsar Bomba, at half power, was 50 megatons. The original design was for 100 megatons.
Now people even made 1-gigaton weapons.
Hikaru fell silent. "That's terrifying. One shot could wipe out a megacity. Good thing you're all kind-hearted."
"If you disappear again," Lexington poked his chest, "who knows if I'll still be kind."
She explained that powerful shipgirls compressed their energy into armor-piercing shells, like sniping rounds.
Within minutes of their chat, California had closed to five nautical miles—just under 10 km.
Now even Hikaru could see the enemy's rigging.
The abyssal destroyers had shark-like steel jaws, their guns mounted on either side. The light cruisers were flanked by smaller but deadlier sea monsters.
But to California's 380mm guns, they were all fodder.
At this range, it was point-blank for shipgirls. Though the four-barreled French gun had issues, with each salvo, the splash zones crept closer.
Then—boom!
All four barrels fired simultaneously. One shell hit dead center on an abyssal destroyer's rigging, blowing the five-meter-long steel shark in half.
Hikaru jumped up and shouted, "Glowworm!"
She was just messing around anyway—might as well go fetch the loot.
Glowworm saluted sharply, then dashed across the water toward the sinking wreck.
[End of Chapter]
[50 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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