That night, at the farm workshop, Marvin, Caroline, and Ben established that there were only two conversations that could’ve gone down between the Manhunters.
One: “Hey, that’s the stupid girl who tried to get into our garage.”
Two: “She knows. We have to eliminate her.”
Ben believed the first, while Caroline leaned heavily towards the second. Marvin was somewhere in the middle. Whatever the case, they agreed that Ben would take Marvin to the Mecha Realm stadium from now on.
After that talk, Ben and Caroline left to make dinner. Marvin remained on the worktable, alone with his thoughts.
Did the Manhunters actually kill me? Do they have my teammates hostage? Why are they guarding the Sawblades’ garage?
His first instinct was to report the gang to the police, but he had nothing to convict them. A mere glance in his direction could’ve meant anything. Plus, rumors were the Manhunters had over a third of Nagatown’s police force in their pocket.
Maybe we’re just paranoid.
Marvin wasn’t sure if that was logic or cope winning out.
Just then, Caroline walked into the center of Marvin’s view. He frowned; had they finished cooking that fast?
“Marvin…” Caroline nervously clasped her hands together. “There’s something we haven’t told you.”
Marvin’s robotic voice vomited out a dumb, “Huh?”
Caroline looked down and began tapping her fingers together. “We… Ben and I and another friend… we’re trying to start a mech team.”
Marvin blinked. “You told me yesterday.”
Caroline’s head snapped upwards, a horrified look plastered on her face. “And you’re okay with it? You know we’re gonna be rebuilding Saberstar, right? You.”
“Yeah…?” Marvin wasn’t sure what the problem was. He would love some arms and legs to go with his mangled lollipop of a head.
“That also means you’re gonna be the pilot,” Caroline said. “We can’t really sub you out unless we find another Core…”
Oh.
The Core they found wouldn’t be as good as Saberstar’s anyways. But if they wanted Marvin to fight, that meant he was risking his life every time he stepped into the ring. There was no Bessmer chair, no neurobrick to protect him. The moment he lost a fight, he would die.
Still, that was the only thing he was good at: fighting. And he liked to think he was smart enough to know when to forfeit before getting mauled.
It was easy to forfeit—you simply had to back away from the fight, take a knee, and detach a part of your own robot. The referees would immediately disconnect you from the Bessmer chair. It was a big sacrifice, but worth it in Marvin’s case.
Then again, all it took was one mistake…
Think about it this way. The offseason is two months long. That’s more than enough time to get you back to your human body. Then you just have to stick with these guys till you find your uncle and the others.
“Can you just build the robot for now?” Marvin asked.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Of course,” Caroline replied. “But there’s a chance you won’t get your body back before the season starts.”
“Can I decide then?”
Caroline pursed her lips. “Alright. Just so you know, we’ll make a kill switch for you. If the program senses you’re about to lose, you’ll auto-forfeit.”
Marvin didn’t need assurances. He was the pilot here; he would make the choice himself.
“Anyways, I wanted to tell you sooner than later,” Caroline said. “I’ll respect your decision either way.”
Marvin could tell this was not the answer she had been looking for, no matter how sympathetic she was.
I guess if I found a top tier mech I’d also be annoyed if I couldn’t use it.
“Do you get hungry?” Caroline asked out of the blue.
“Um, I don’t think so,” Marvin said. To be fair, he had been preoccupied with other things lately.
“Do you wanna have dinner with us?”
“Yeah, sure.” It was good to know he and Caroline were still on good terms.
“Great, I’ll get you in a few minutes.”
-----
The dining table was located in the far corner of the workshop, a comfortable distance from the worktables. Marvin, Caroline, and Ben sat at three edges, facing a large TV that hung from the ceiling. Naturally, they watched Mecha Realm.
Nothing particularly exciting was going on. The obstacle course had ended and now reporters were just following random teams around like it was a reality show.
Caroline and Ben had cooked some burgers, “in honor of Burgercooker,” as Caroline proclaimed. Marvin felt a slight rumble in his phantom stomach as they ate, but it didn’t bother him. What irked him more was the prospect of not eating for the next few months.
“I wanna change my bet on Sparrow to fifty,” Ben announced.
Caroline squinted at him. “You would never cook fifty meals for me.”
Ben grinned. “I’m that confident. Look how locked in Sienna is right now.”
The TV was showing Sparrow’s pilot meditating in a garden under the artificial night sky. Sienna Lee had her black hair tied in a ponytail, a red streak hanging down beside her right eye. She wore the classic pilots’ jacket: a sleek and sharp piece of polyester embroidered with Sparrow’s colors, black and dark red.
“She’s learned her lesson from last year,” Ben continued. “No one stands a chance.”
“Have you been following Ninth Gen at all?” Caroline asked incredulously. “It could snap Sparrow in half!”
“Sparrow won’t run into Ninth Gen.”
“If Ninth Gen makes the top five they’re guaranteed-”
“They won’t, though. They’re overrated.”
Caroline sighed. “Who do you think will be second place, then?”
“Immortal Ignition,” Ben replied.
“I appreciate you being a feminist, but Ella or whatever her name is is not making it to Day 5.”
“I’m not a feminist!” Ben said, with a little too much conviction. “It’s not just about the pilot. Immortal Ignition is one of the best mechs and Ella’s got that mindset.”
“You know who else has that mindset? The guy who won eight championships.”
“Grayson Wright’s ancient! He’s gonna have a stroke in the middle of a fight.”
Caroline crossed her arms and turned to Marvin. “Who do you think will win, Marvin?”
“Um, probably Oliveeater.” He meant it as a joke, but his voice box made him sound 100% serious.
Caroline and Ben flew into a rage.
When all was said and done, Marvin expressed his honest opinion that he thought Ninth Gen would win. Its main competition was weaker this year: Immortal Ignition had a rookie pilot; The Everlancer’s pilot was paralyzed due to a worsening illness; The Praetor had lost its chief engineer; and Sparrow’s game plan was still kill as many mechs as possible.
Despite hearing all of these points, Ben was still not having it, and their debate lasted long into the night. There was something about Ben that put Marvin at ease. Maybe it was how similar he was to Theo, or his flamboyant way of voicing his thoughts. Or maybe it was because he was annoying and it was liberating to argue with him.
At length, Caroline announced that she was going to sleep. But before she headed to her room, she went over to Marvin and, with his consent, shut him off.
That night was the most he had talked in a long time.