TFCG 3

Chapter 3

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At the crew member’s words, I quickly agreed with relief.

“Oh, you’re right. If he’s not an active crew member, then I can trust that.”

To enter the cockpit, you needed an ID card from a current crew member.
A retired crew member might have acquaintances among the staff, but security on an airship wasn’t lax enough to let someone into the cockpit just because of connections.

And this wasn’t just any crew member—he had been an air marshal. Clearly, his combat skills must have been outstanding.

“He’s not just a retired air marshal either! He’s such a devout man that he’s chosen to spend the rest of his life at the Grand Temple on Midisle.”

At her words, I couldn’t help but chuckle awkwardly. To say deep faith was proof of innocence felt rather ridiculous.

Still, it didn’t seem easy to find someone more trustworthy than this retired air marshal.

With that thought, I accepted her suggestion.

“Alright, I’ll leave it to you. Please explain it well to him.”

“Yes, just wait here a moment!”

The crew member replied with a determined look before stepping out of the lounge, leaving me behind.

Left alone, I felt strangely uneasy. I peeked out through the curtain at the entrance to the crew lounge. Soon enough, I spotted her—standing in the aisle about three rows back from where I sat.

And beside her sat an old man, listening intently with a serious expression.

That must be the retired air marshal.

I swallowed hard and studied him carefully.

His face was deeply lined with age, and though it wasn’t the stern look I had imagined from hearing “air marshal,” it radiated warmth.
Yet his sharp eyes betrayed a lingering intensity; back in his prime, he must have been a formidable lawman.

Just as I was engrossed in observing him, the old man suddenly leapt to his feet and strode straight toward me.

W-what?

Had he caught me peeking?
I quickly backed away from the curtain, pretending not to notice, and pressed a hand against my pounding chest.

Moments later, the curtain was flung aside, and the two entered the lounge.

The elderly man, supposedly an ex-air marshal, stood scowling and stared at me in silence.

I had thought he looked kind earlier, but with his brow deeply furrowed, his glare was terrifying.

I was flustered, but as someone raised in a culture of deep respect for elders, I bowed slightly, intending to greet him.

Then he suddenly exclaimed, dropping heavily to his knees before me:

“Th-this person…! Are you truly the Hero chosen by the Goddess?”

“Yes, Uncle!”

The crew member beside him quickly answered.

…U-Uncle? For a moment I thought they were just close colleagues since she knew his personal history so well, but they were actually relatives.

Still, why was this old man kneeling before a kid like me? He even clasped his hands as though about to start praying.

I couldn’t help but wonder what a family gathering of such zealous believers would be like. The thought of attending one myself made my head ache.

“I see the gun at your side. You must be a fellow shooter, walking the same path as I once did… it’s an honor.”

The old man shyly extended his hand for a handshake.

My face turned crimson with embarrassment, but I shook his hand anyway.

“Has the situation been explained to you already?”

“N-no, not yet. She only told me that the Goddess’s Hero was seeking me. You never know who might be listening in.”

That was actually a smart move.

His excessive devotion made him difficult to relate to, but aside from that, he seemed rational enough.

“Alright, then I’ll explain it directly. Time’s short, so I’ll be quick.”

As I recounted the terrorism situation, the ex-air marshal’s expression shifted from one of fan-like awe to grave seriousness. He nodded firmly.

“Then there’s only one thing I must do. My niece and I will guard the cockpit door with our lives.”

“I’d be grateful. But remember, the terrorist has a magic bomb, so please be careful.”

After warning them repeatedly, I returned to my seat, acting as if nothing had happened.

I tried to maintain a poker face so as not to seem suspicious, though deep inside, unease gnawed at me.

According to the game’s story, my chances of survival were high, but who could say if reality would perfectly follow the script?

As I waited nervously for the outcome, a commotion erupted near the front of the airship.

Passengers began rising from their seats and moving forward out of curiosity. I joined the flow naturally, edging closer to the noise.

“Senior, why are you stopping me? I’m only bringing the captain his meal.”

“I told you, I’ll bring it myself. Please just go back.”

It seemed the argument was about a crew member trying to deliver food to the pilots, while another blocked her.

“But I don’t understand why you keep insisting on doing it instead of me. Is there a reason I can’t go?”

The younger attendant looked flustered.

She didn’t look like a terrorist at all—too frail, too harmless. Certainly not the image of a ruthless bomber.

But determination to reach the cockpit despite opposition? That was suspicious.

As the standoff dragged on, static crackled over the intercom, followed by the captain’s announcement:

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have just now sighted our destination—Midisle—through the windows.”

Ah, sweet words to hear.

For in the original story, the explosion and crash occurred precisely when Midisle came into view.

But now? There had been no explosion, and the would-be terrorist hadn’t even breached the cockpit door.

Of course, I still had no hard proof she was the terrorist, so I couldn’t relax completely.

It was then—

“Hah! I’ll just kill you all here and now! For the glory of the Great Demon!”

Agitated by the announcement that arrival was near, the young crew member dropped her polite mask and revealed her true identity.

She whipped off the cloth covering her serving cart and began pulling out a large magical device.

A mana bomb.

One strong enough to obliterate the cockpit entirely.

I have to stop her!

As the thought struck, my body moved.

Faster than I could ever normally manage, I lunged at her, knocking her arm aside before she could raise the bomb.

At the same time, the ex-air marshal fired, his mana bullet striking her shoulder.

Thanks to our combined effort, she was subdued.

“As expected of the Hero! Such agility!”

The retired marshal, shackling her hands, spoke in admiration.

I scratched my cheek in embarrassment, about to deflect the praise.

“Oh, not at all. It was far more impressive that you managed to shoot so quickly—”

“So you’re the filthy Goddess’s so-called Hero? Die!”

Another voice cut me off.

A man hiding among the passengers suddenly lunged at me, shouting.

Damn it—why had I assumed there was only one terrorist?

No one would try to bring down an entire airship alone.

Dodge! Dodge skill!

Every game had some kind of evasive move.

In Edaphosia, you double-tapped the same direction key to retreat rapidly.

Just like earlier, my body obeyed, sliding backward at high speed.

Without conscious thought, my hand also grabbed the pistol from my belt.

In the game, dodging automatically drew your weapon and put you into combat stance. Apparently, it worked here too.

With my gun ready, I reflexively pulled the trigger at the charging man.

At once, heat surged down my arm, and a bullet of mana shot forth, homing toward him like a magnet.

But here lay the problem: I was still a newbie with pitifully low combat stats.

My bullet struck his blade cleanly, knocking it from his grasp—but failed to cause further harm.

Frustrating, but impressive nonetheless. My eyesight, reflexes, and marksmanship were all clearly boosted by my status window.

“Damn it, you worthless brat…!”

The disarmed terrorist snarled, teeth grinding, then shoved through the panicked crowd and bolted.

Screams erupted as passengers scattered in terror. Chaos engulfed the cabin.

“Quick, after him!”

If there was more than one terrorist, who was to say there was only one bomb?

We gave chase—

KA-BOOM!

 

A deafening explosion split the air, a blinding flash swallowing my vision.