Everyone Gather at 8

As the ship nears the special district, guests start pouring out onto the deck in excitement. Curious, I go take a peek and catch my breath.

Towering skyscrapers illuminated and densely packed together seem to blanket the sky - is this what the surface looks like? It's like a space fortress straight out of a sci-fi movie.

Our designated hotel, the newly opened General Headquarters Hotel backed by American capital (nicknamed Hotel GHQ for short), looms right next to the port. Apparently it's popular with US military personnel, though that's probably unrelated to the nickname.

Inside this 120-story hotel is a casino, massive amusement center, restaurant district and even a shopping mall. The building itself is practically a small city - and it's considered mid-sized compared to the other skyscrapers in this special district. Terrifying.

Taking a moving walkway from the ship to Hotel GHQ's lobby, I don't actually have to do anything as the panel automatically guides you to your destination at junctions. I didn't quite catch the mechanism in that brief moment, but it's incredible - a true sci-fi world. I feel like a dish being carried on a conveyor at a rotating sushi restaurant.

Showing my introduction letter in the lobby, a dapper hotel man escorts me to my room. Am I getting VIP treatment? Not to brag, but I've never been treated with such courtesy before, so it feels oddly ticklish.

Room 923 on the 9th floor. The view would be better higher up, but I won't be looking outside anyway, so it doesn't matter to me. I probably should have tipped the escort, but since I wasn't sure, I just left it, and he left without a word. That's fine, right? This is Japan after all.

The unnecessarily spacious room has a wall-to-wall window at the far end of what seems to be over 10 tatami mats in size, revealing a night view of the ocean when the curtains are open. It's almost hypnotizing - the sea is beautiful. 

A plush sofa wraps around a table in an L-shape, with the latest projection system installed in the ceiling. Maybe I'll watch a movie if I have time to kill.

Right by the entrance is a small system kitchen complete with a wine cellar, microwave, and oven. Is there a rice cooker? The freezer has frozen pizzas and edamame - compliments of the hotel? They're also well-stocked with alcohol - mineral water, soda, orange juice, you name it. 

Feeling peckish, I can't resist opening a bag of nuts. But I'll skip alcohol and have the orange juice instead.

The meeting time is 8pm, so I still have nearly two hours. First, I want to change out of this stuffy suit. But first, the restroom.

There are doors to the left and right of the room. The restroom must be on the right...but opening that door reveals a spacious office-like room neatly equipped with computers, printers, a copier, even a shredder. Do celebrity businessmen trade stocks or something even on vacation? 

In the corner of the office room is a unit bathroom. After showering and changing into sweats, I notice my suit pants have ripped and there are faint burn-like scuffs on my legs. I must have snagged them somewhere, despite it being tailored. 

The other door must lead to the bedroom. Entering, I'm greeted by an extravagantly oversized bed even more luxurious than I imagined, with a huge closet and a stately vanity.

This room also has a bathroom, with a bubble bath tub big enough to fit four people in the spacious bathing area.

I wonder how much a night here costs? This hotel stay really must be fully comped - it's starting to concern me. 

With some time before the meet-up, I decide to go shopping, as there seems to be a convenience store on the 2nd floor mall.

I was a bit apprehensive about wandering the hotel in sweats, but I see other guests in sweats and bathrobes too, so it puts me at ease. Apparently there are more formal hotels elsewhere with dress codes.

The convenience store has a selection rivaling a high-end grocery - they even stock luxuries like caviar, truffles and foie gras. 

You can use the hotel key card to purchase items here too, with everything, even payment, covered by the organizers. Since it's free, maybe I'll try some caviar? I've always wanted to, but that does seem rather shallow of me.

For now, I stock up on regular groceries and sports drinks, returning to my room. I could go for a beer, but I'll abstain from alcohol before piloting. 

The provided rice cooker is a top-of-the-line domestic brand that looks brand new. I promptly set it up with the rice I bought to test this premium appliance's capabilities.

There are also fun-looking gadgets like a sous vide cooker and pressure cooker. I've never stayed in a hotel with a full kitchen before - do overseas guests cook for themselves? I suppose there are dietary restrictions and religious reasons that could call for it.

At 7:50pm, after confirming I have my pilot card, I head to the designated 5th floor meeting area of the hotel. 

The elevator isn't coming, and I start to get anxious. It came right away when I went to the convenience store, so what's the holdup? Would taking the stairs be faster?

Unable to wait any longer, I dash down the stairwell, which is rather plain for such a luxurious hotel. There's no air conditioning or more than minimal lighting - maybe stairs are only used in emergencies.

As I descend, I start to sense the presence of many people. The 7th and 6th floors open up to wide audience seating areas overlooking the 5th floor.

The 5th floor is lined with rows of familiar cockpit units. The audience seating on the upper floors must be for spectating, but is it really entertaining to watch the cockpits themselves? A massive screen is suspended from the ceiling, probably to view the gameplay action, but spectators could just watch online streams on their mobile devices instead. The atmosphere among the spectators seems odd though - there's a sizeable crowd that clearly doesn't consist of typical casino patrons or gaming enthusiasts.

The other players must have already boarded their units. As I hesitate in front of the stage area, the audience's eyes collectively turn toward me. How embarrassing.

"Over here please, this way."

A girl in a NekoMimi bunny suit guides me to one of the cockpits. 

She has well-defined facial features, but there's a subtle disconnect between her voice and mouth movements. This girl is an android - a rather well-made one.

"Here you are."

She offers me a glass on a tray. The liquid inside doesn't ripple at all, impressive balance control.

"I'll pass on alcohol."

"It's a sports drink. This is a monitored glass from the organizers, so please don't worry."

Apparently they're monitoring with countless cameras to prevent players from being drugged. Although there are probably plenty of workarounds, I can trust an android staff member more than an ordinary person.

There's a chance this girl could be hacked, but leaving no trace while infiltrating the network would be difficult. The risk wouldn't be worth trying to sabotage me - with that level of skill, they could more profitably hack the casino's dealer androids instead.

Parched from my earlier dash down the stairs, I gratefully accept the drink.

"I want to bet on myself surviving. Can I do that?"

I place all the chips from my pocket onto the tray she's holding.

"Certainly, I've noted that. Good luck out there."

As expected of an android from the casino district, she's quite capable. With service like this, human staff may not even be needed. Still, these chips are terrifying in how casually they can be treated like toy money. If this was real currency, I don't think I could bear to gamble with the pressure. Cashing them in gives the same value, but there's a psychological difference.

As I board the cockpit unit, the seat automatically micro-adjusts to the optimal position. The moderately firm cushioning is quite comfortable - clearly a step up from the usual arcade units.

The feel of the joystick is completely different too. I can't wait to pilot my Rinks unit again.

"You're late again, Sergeant Zack. Please try to act with more foresight."

Betty chides me.

"Yeah, let's do our best today too."

The countdown begins as 8pm arrives. That really was cutting it close.

The screen switches to a camera view of the center stage. A familiar face appears under the spotlight.

"Well, the momentous 8 o'clock has arrived for all you eager participants. Are all my soldiers present? Of course, your host is none other than your idol, a rose blooming on the battlefield - Colonel Alisa! Shall we get started, my dears?"

Colonel Alisa is in high spirits, even more pumped up than when I saw her on the ship.

"First, let me explain the rules you've all been dying to know. The format will be a battle royale - many of you probably expected as much, didn't you?"

I did. As a loner, it's a disadvantage for me, but I'll just have to focus on evasion.

"The battlefield this time is a specially prepared stage area. You soldiers are free to do as you wish - you can even team up for joint operations if you want. However, only the top 16 scoring pilots will survive. Simply running and hiding won't be enough."

I see, so teaming up means splitting the rewards. Joint scores are probably based on things like damage dealt, finishing blows, MVPs and so on through some complicated allocation formula that would severely reduce individual gains. Going solo has the advantage of keeping all the spoils to myself, so it may not be as disadvantageous as it seems.

"Additionally, we've released numerous high-value targets across the map that provide far greater points than the mere survival bonus. In other words, rack up a huge score and it won't matter if you get shot down! Everyone, fight with your lives on the line!"

Cheers erupt from the audience seating. So there will be high-scoring fodder enemies placed to scramble over? Makes sense as a rule to discourage overly passive evasion tactics if death isn't necessarily the end.

"For any pilots unfortunately ranking 17th or below, this is where we must part ways. But don't worry, we have a special parting gift! An exclusive battera assortment from the renowned Kataru Sushi restaurant in Naniwa with long lines - a 'saba ibaru' (sardine survival) for our survivors, if you will."

The venue falls eerily silent. The Colonel's attempt at wordplay humor bombed spectacularly. Personally, I don't mind a bit of cheesy punnery, but it went completely over the audience's heads. You'd have to know battera is a type of pressed saba sushi from Osaka for it to be even mildly amusing - too niche for the foreign guests.

While part of me is curious about this supposedly delicious battera, I'm here to win.